


A Chance To Live

by ap_marvel



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, The Last of Us
Genre: Dark, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, i'm so sorry but this is gonna fucking hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22928788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ap_marvel/pseuds/ap_marvel
Summary: Rey, a former firefly, returns to her life as a scavenger. She crosses paths with a ruthless smuggler, Ben, who's double-crossed the local militia.My own prompt submitted to @reylo_prompts
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 16
Kudos: 33
Collections: Reylo Hidden Gems, Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts)





	1. Chapter 1

“do i need to remind you what is out there?” – _Joel_

\-------------

Curls of white followed her every breath. The cold bit at her pale skin, dug between her thick layers and took up residence in her bones. She sniffed, holding back a cough when the sharp intake of air scratched at her throat. Her elbows dug into the crooks of the boulder and her legs stretched out behind her as she looked through her scope.

Rey had been waiting for too long. It wouldn’t be long until nightfall and if she didn’t find her dinner tonight then she’d have to hungry another night. The last of the deer meat had run out a few days ago and she had already eaten two cans of expired peaches she had found in the lodge. A few more days of hunger and she’d have considered returning to Utah.

Fuck, she’d go back to the zone if it meant she’d get a decent meal.

Movement.

She turned the scope to her left. Slightly back to her right.

There.

A fucking elk.

It was there, leaning down elegantly, chewing on the little grass that popped up through the layers of snow. It had thick light brown fur, dusted lightly with white specks and its long antlers lined with snow. It looked beautiful amongst the vacant snowy landscape and the indigo sky.

She moved her head from her scope, as though incapable of believing what she was seeing. And sure enough, there it was. A blurry, distant figure of an elk. Rey suppressed a laugh, instead letting a grin take over her features.

“Finally,” she whispered delightedly.

She looked back at the horse who was tied to a branch, using his hoof to dig up the grass beneath the grass. He huffed every now and then, shaking the snow from his coat.

“I’ll come back for you.”

She threw the strap of her rifle over her head and positioned it on her back. She got up, dusting off the snow that had settled on her backpack before opening it. Rey untied the bow from the hook of her backpack and took an arrow from the opening they protruded from. She put on her backpack as she climbed off the boulder and hurried in the direction of the elk, nocking her arrow ready and using the trees for cover.

The woods she was in went for miles in all directions. The ground she had covered hadn’t overlapped with any infected, _yet_. So to even contemplate firing her hunting rifle would be suicide. Something that she had considered, for a long time.

It wasn’t easy losing people.

Rey thought that burden eased with experience. It never did. And with the gruelling task of surviving, losing people was a reoccurring ordeal. It wasn’t something she forgot now that she was alone again, but at least it made life bearable. Never having to anticipate the loss of another life. Other than her own.

More movement.

Rey drew her bow, aiming the arrow instinctively towards it. A rabbit, camouflaged against the snow, hopped past the base of a nearby tree. Stopping and sniffing every now and then before continuing to move across.

She let out a breath, loosing her draw on the bow. “It’s your lucky day.”

Once relief had washed down the quake of fear that unsettled her, she returned her focus to the elk. It was within distance of her bow, unaware of its nearing demise.

She used to pity her prey, now she envied them. She gave them mercy in merciless world. A kindful death that she could only pray for.

She drew her bow again, pulling it far back enough that her finger touched the side of her nose. She paused, making sure she was aiming in the right direction before she let it slip. The arrow whipped past her and straight into the elk’s neck.

A strangled cry rang through chilly air.

The rabbit had disappeared.

Rey ran towards the fallen elk, nocking another arrow. She stood over it and shot again, silencing it. Blood pooled out of the wound, staining the snow crimson. She took off her backpack and strapped her bow back on, putting away the arrow. Then, she placed a hand down on its neck, attempting to pull the arrow out and tearing through its flesh in the process. It took a few tries but when she pried it free, she wiped it clean against her jeans before putting it away.

Killing was easy. Waiting for prey and dragging their dead carcasses back was the hardest. Well, it used to be harder when she didn’t have the horse.

She slung her backpack back on and ran back in the direction of where she had left him. The cold had been fought off with the exhilaration of a kill and it tapped into a reserve of energy she didn’t know she had.

It didn’t take long before she was greeted by the sight of him. His black coat in stark contrast with their surroundings, though he did have a few blue striped blankets beneath his saddle to protect him from the cold. Rey petted his face gently before untying him from the branch. She took up his reins, directing him back to where she had left the elk.

“Hope you got enough food down.” He said nothing and she continued. “At least one of us will have something to eat before the sun rises.”

Once they had reached it, she took out rope and tied it to the legs of the elk. She put her foot into the stirrup and mounted the horse, looking back out the stilled elk one last time before she set off.

\-------------

Rey’s lids were drooping as the horse led her back to the lodge. She had gone further out then she had anticipated, and it was well into the night by the time her surroundings became familiar to her. She rubbed at her eyes, her stomach growling as she downed the rest of the little water she had left in her flask. The icy water scratched against the soreness of her throat, but there wasn’t much she could do about that.

Medicine was few and far between. Provisions were common, the odd bandage and ammunition scattered across drawers in abandoned houses in deserted towns. At least they were more common to find in urban areas. Rural Wyoming seemed to be much less generous with supplies. Though it did make up for it with its wildlife and that goddamn view.

She was looking up, entranced by the white sparks that dotted the black sky. It was one of many sights that seemed to take her breath away each time. A rare second of peace she had found in the inevitability of chaos.

“Hey.” She looked down from the sky and patted the side of the horse. “You think we’ll be able to live this out together? Just you and me, dragging dead meat home until we’re old.”

He let out a sigh, puffs of white following it into the air.

“Of course, I’m fucking around,” Rey laughed. A few moments passed by before she looked down at him with a sad smile and stroked his hair. “But it’d be a dream, right? To find some quiet before we go.”

He said nothing, instead coming to a stop in front of the lodge. She slid off of the saddle and opened up her flask, scooping the fresh layers of snow in before closing it. Then she took up his reins, directing him inside the lodge.

It was large and wooden, reinforced with a steel frame. The grand entrance was blocked up with nails and planks, all sorts of furniture from the inside had been precariously stacked to prevent any sort of entry. Although, Rey had managed to find an underground entrance at the back, which was once rusted shut and hidden beneath layers of snows.

She opened it up, taking him down the steps and into the basement. Once the elk was inside, she bolted the doors closed and set the heavy plank of wood across it.

You could never be too cautious.

Rey let out a sigh, finding some relief in that her breath wasn’t entirely visible. She took off the strap of her rifle and her backpack and set it down on the workbench. She took up the soft bristle brush she had found in one of the closets and brushed off the snow on the horse. She untied him from the elk before she took off his saddle, stirrups and reins and placed them on a table. She patted his back and he made his way to the corner of the basement to lie down.

She set on taking off her coat, shoes, socks and jeans. They were now wet from the snow and were beginning to ice up. She opened the lockers in the corner of the basement and took out the only other pair of clothes she had left and put them on.

She looked down at the elk and folded her arms.

This was going to be a long night.

\-------------

Rey had spent four hours butchering the elk, taking majority of the meat and placing it in bags of salt in the coldest part of the lodge to cure. It would take weeks before those cuts would be edible but cured meats had the longest shelf life. The rest had been cooked on a burner and eaten, leaving her with a half-full stomach.

She was laying down with her eyes closed, swathed in a moth eaten blanket as she fell in and out of sleep. She let her hands take turn in being pressed between the warmth of her underarms, the other holding onto the pendant of the necklace around her neck.

She hated silence. Most survivors would have called her crazy for saying that, but it was true. Silence was the real killer. It forced her to listen to voices she never wanted to hear again and recall the faces of people she just wanted to forget.

And as she held onto that necklace, she began to hear the sounds of his laughter and his smile. It stung her deeply, piercing through the door of memories she had locked away.

Shouting. Screaming. Gunshots.

A crack of a gunshot cut through the night.

Rey opened her eyes, ripping her hand away from the necklace to push away the sudden heat of the blankets as she got up. Her head whipped towards the sound and she instinctively reached for the rifle beside her. She always kept it near when she slept. She positioned herself in front of the boarded-up windows, pushing her rifle through the little crack she had made and looking down her scope.

Another gunshot, this time followed by incoherent yelling. She saw the light of a muzzle flash from beyond the cover of trees. She looked closely down her scope, seeing shadowy armoured figures.

Bandits were in these woods.

“Shit,” she hissed as she took her rifle out of the crack of the window.

Bandits meant trouble. And trouble was usually followed by infected. She didn’t know how many infected were in these woods but if they continued firing, she was sure she’d find out.

There hadn’t enough snow since she was outside to cover the trail of hoofprints or the blood left from the elk. Both of which would lead them back to the lodge.

This was not good.

She had two choices. Leave them alone, which came with the risk of being found and them alerting the infected. Or, deal with them herself by leading them away from the lodge, which came with the risk of being killed.

Rey gritted her teeth as she threw the strap of the rifle over her head.


	2. Chapter 2

“once upon a time, i had somebody that i cared about. it was a partner. somebody i had to look after. and in this world, that sort of shit is good for one thing. gettin' ya killed.” – _Bill_

\-------------

She pulled out her nine mm pistol from her backpack, checking the magazine. Fourteen rounds. She put it down between the waistband of her jeans, threw on her backpack and adjusted the strap of her rifle.

Rey turned to the horse and stroked the side of his face. “Keep watch. I won’t be long.”

She moved the heavy plank from the door and unbolted it. She pushed it open slowly, the shock of the gnarly winter wind hitting her as she got out and closed it quietly behind her. She used her hand to cover it back up with snow.

The gunshots had stopped but now she could hear them and see their flashlights more clearly. She crouched and used the trees to find her way towards the muffled commotion echoing through the woods. She slowed her movements as she began to reach the source of the sound, being careful to avoid the twigs and fallen branches that were scattered across the ground.

One of the men the bandits were holding down, clothed in black, tried to make a break for it. He was bleeding, she realised, as two of the bandits grabbed him and held him down onto his knees again.

“Where the fuck you think you goin’?” The male voice asked in a heavy accent, hitting the black-clothed man across the face with his revolver. The man grabbed his bleeding face and turned it towards him. “We ain’t done with you yet.”

Rey hid behind the large trunk of a tree when she realised how close she had gotten. She held onto the trunk as she peered towards them. There were five of them at least, all armed with rifles and shotguns, and very much hostile as they stood in the small clearing. Though it seemed to be directed at the two men. Both of them must have been only a year or two older than her, maybe more.

“You been playin’ us all this time?” The man, she assumed was in charge, asked. He gestured with his gun at them as he spoke. “Sellin’ your guns to us and those fuckers in Jackson and profitin’ like we wouldn’t notice?”

Smugglers. There weren’t many of them this far from the zone.

“I’m surprised you did Ethan,” the dark curly-haired man spat back. He laughed at Ethan, but she could tell it was devoid of any humour. “Took you assholes long enough.”

Ethan took no offence, instead he looked around his little group with a grin. “There’s always a joker.” In the next second, he slammed his fist into his stomach. The man bent over out of breath, coughing.

“That all you got?”

“Poe,” the black-clothed man beside him said lowly but firmly. “Shut the fuck up.”

Poe coughed more and she saw blood spill from his mouth and on to his chin as they grabbed his hair to face Ethan.

Rey decided to move, slowly passing each tree and waiting to see if the bandit closest to her noticed. He didn’t. She continued making her way to a spot where she could easily distract them and lead them towards the abandoned cabin not far from the clearing as they continued to talk.

“I want all the guns you have.”

The man beside Poe shook his head. “We’re done. We’ve got nothing.” His voice got frustrated. “Why do you think we were leaving?”

Ethan pushed the revolver against his forehead. “I don’t give a shit. I want my guns.”

“We don’t have any,” he persisted.

“Alright,” Ethan said quietly. He removed the revolver from his face, though the man was still tensed. He looked at his group. “Guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.” He pressed the gun to Poe’s forehead.

“No!” The man leapt forward towards Ethan, trying to take Poe’s place but he was held back by the other bandits.

“All you had to do was tell me you could get my guns – ”

“There’s more!”

“You lyin’ to me, boy?!” Ethan’s voice echoed loudly.

“No, we can get it!” His voice cracked. “I fucking swear we can get your guns!”

Poe seemed unafraid but the man was visibly shaking beside him, cowering before Ethan. Poe still had the revolver still on his forehead, but Ethan was now looking at the man beside him.

“Please...”

Rey retreated behind the trunk of a tree when her foot snapped a twig. She stilled, holding her breath in fear that they would be able to see it. She heard the bandit closest to her mutter.

This wasn’t the plan. She was too close to them. She needed to get further out before causing a distraction.

His nearing footsteps crunched against the snow.

“We can get your guns,” he repeated breathlessly.

She pulled the nine mm from her waistband and gripped it tightly. She messed up. Shit. She had survived. Endured. All to die here in the goddamned woods getting shot by a fucking bandit.

Her heart was pounding in her ears from holding her breath for so long. Her palms started to sweat despite the bite of the chilly air. She looked around taking in how the snow clung to the dark bark of the trees even in this dark hour. It reminded her of Utah and the fireflies and _him_. She closed her eyes.

“Okay then,” Ethan’s voice echoed delightedly. There was a long pause. “But I only need one delivery boy.”

The shot ripped through the silence. It was followed by the sound of a limp body hitting the ground and a scream.

_Finn._

She opened her eyes and let out her breath.

The bandit had passed her, looking around the trees for the source of the sound. But he could see her visible breath from his peripheral and turned. “What the – ”

She shot him twice in the head, seeing the muzzle flash light up her surroundings and feeling his warm blood spatter across her face. The adrenaline kicked in and she aimed at another one, watching as chaos unfolded before her. One of them clipped her arm and she stumbled back before turning her aim onto him. When another two bodies slumped and her back was pressed another tree to protect her from their fire, she readied her rifle.

She heard them reload and moved out, she took aim and shot the bandit in full armour. He staggered back and she quickly pulled back the bolt before shooting again. She pulled the bolt back and fired, reloaded and fired again, and again. Until she was nothing more than a finger that pulled the trigger.

Rey stopped. Her breaths shallow and her body felt bizarrely warm beneath her layers. She stared at the clearing that was now littered with bodies and crimson-stained snow. But in its centre was the black-clothed man holding a limp body in his lap, his long hair spilling over as he shook.

“No, no… Please – No, please God, no…”

She swallowed, trying to push down the bile that threatened to spill.

“Hands,” she whispered breathlessly. When he didn’t move and the rifle started to feel heavier in her hands, she pointed it more steadily at his back. Her voice clearer and louder. “Show me your hands.”

His shoulders shook as he let out a sob, ignoring her. “I promised your mom… I fucking promised her you’d be okay. So don’t do this to me, Poe. Don’t do this – ” He choked up on another sob, gasping for air. “Please.”

She moved towards him, getting frustrated and desperate. She didn’t know if he was going to turn a gun on her next or if he was infected or if he was any better than the pieces of shit she’d just killed. And maybe it was because she could hear herself in his voice, in his grief. It was all too much. “Show me… your _fucking_ hands!”

It took a few seconds before he raised them slowly, showing her that they were empty. His body still violently shaking as he turned his face towards her. Blood was painted across his features and his eyes murderously dark. She could see Poe’s limp body on his lap, a bloodied hole ripped through his forehead. His eyes were open but hauntingly still.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, trying to hold back memories.

A screech followed by a series of clicks travelled through the woods.

Rey felt the hairs on her back raise, ice running through her veins as she recognised the sound.

Clickers.


	3. Chapter 3

“no matter what, you keep finding something to fight for.” – _Joel_

\-------------

Rey’s mind blanked. Like she had detached from reality in one moment. Everything felt light, unreal like she wasn’t there anymore. That there was no threat. And as the moment went by in a fleeting second, it hit her.

This was it. This was the end of the line.

She didn’t know why – perhaps there was still good left in her, a spark of hope that hadn’t died out or maybe she knew she couldn’t handle this many infected alone. But she grabbed the man by his shoulder and pulled him to his feet with all the force she could muster.

Her voice was stricken with fear. “We have to go.”

He kept his gaze on Poe’s body, his voice hysterical. “I can’t leave him behind.”

“He’s gone. You’re still alive. You can fight.”

She glanced up to see one of the infected, a runner, getting much to close to the clearing.

Rey tugged at him. He tried to resist, still holding onto his friend but she managed to pry him away and get him to his feet. There was a fierce look in her eye as she pulled a shotgun from a dead man’s arms and shoved it into his.

Her voice teetered on the frantic. “Can you run?”

He clutched his side with one hand, the other gripping the shotgun, and nodded numbly.

“Then fucking go!” She pushed in the direction of the cabin.

He ran and she sprinted off after him. She jumped over rocks and tangled branches. Her hair whipping in the cold wind as her clipped arm throbbed bitterly against it. She pushed herself to run faster as she heard their screeches behind her. She caught up to him as he fell to his knees, still trying to hold back the bleeding in his side. She hauled him back up to his feet, almost slipping against the snow as she did.

“Come on!”

He managed to get up, but he was exhausted, scarily pale as he staggered forward.

They were so close. The cabin straight up ahead, offering its shelter.

She pushed him, trying to get him to run faster but with that effort she realised that she was tired. Her lungs on the brink of collapse and she was beginning to feel light-headed as she stumbled after him.

Rey turned when she felt it jump onto her, making her slam against the ground. Snow flew around her as she scrambled, a scream barely leaving her lips. Her eyes locked on its twisted teeth as it roared at her. Fungal plates broken through its skull, blinding them and its pale skin scarred and horrifyingly decayed. She gritted her teeth, struggling to hold it off as she reached for her pistol. She felt a tear slip down her cheek as her wound tore from the pressure of keeping it from biting her and blood dripped down her arm. She could see it salivating as it neared her face.

She wanted to close her eyes, to just… Let go. But there was too much adrenaline in her, and she just couldn’t.

Rey screamed as it neared her skin.

She _wanted_ to fight.

A blow of a shotgun shredded its head apart. And she felt the clickers grip loosen on her slightly as a ringing took over her hearing. Another blast of light and it dropped off of her, falling limply to its side. A large hand was on her shoulder as she recovered from the sound, pulling her to her feet.

She breathed heavily; her eyes still locked on it. Terrified that it would reanimate. She took up her fallen rifle and shot it once more.

Tears mingled with blood as she faced him.

He nodded tiredly.

She nodded back.

They used the little reserve of energy they had to make their way. She used her rifle to cover him as he got the door to the cabin open, slipping in as quickly as she could when he did. He fell to the floor, the shotgun clattered beside him. Rey didn’t have time to tend to him, instead she got to the large container and leaned her good arm against it. She pushed with all she could, hearing it scrape agonisingly against the floor before it covered the doorway.

They banged against it, shaking the container. Their screeches still loud and clear. Rey looked around the cabin fearfully. It wouldn’t hold them out for long. She could already hear them moving around its perimeter, likely going towards the windows.

She dropped beside the man, taking off her backpack and pulling out a gauze, tape and alcohol. She didn’t have much time. She pushed him back against the wall, and he slumped against his eyes drooping as they watched her. She pulled up his layers and held back her bile as she doused the gnarly wound with alcohol. It swirled with the red liquid and filtered through the dark dried stains on his pale skin. She grabbed his hand and made him press the gauze to his wound as she tore piece of tape with her teeth to tape it down.

He let out some incoherent word.

He put a heavy hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him. He had the shotgun in his hand.

“Move!”

She ducked out of his way as he fired at the clicker. He reloaded and shot again. She finished up quickly and pulled out her pistol, firing at them. When he ran out of shells, she took over. There were some close calls with some of the runners, but they were easier to handle herself. It felt like a second and a decade had passed before there was only one infected left.

She was out of bullets.

Her eye caught a rusted pipe beneath a table. She grabbed it just before the clicker could grab her and swung hard. Metal met bone. She swung again, ignoring how blood erupted from it. It fell to the ground and she hit it again and again. Several blows and its fungal-plated head had been crushed into the ground, its body still. But that didn’t stop her.

Another blow.

She could see him again. His dark skin, his smile. He was family. He was kind. When they grew out of the orphanage, he asked her to leave with him _._ Telling her it was a chance to live, not just survive.

Another blow.

They left the zone, joined the fireflies. This was better. This was safer. This was good. They were happy.

The pool of blood spilled out from the body.

They left Utah. They had a package to take to the University of Eastern Colorado. They had to wait at the Capitol building with other fireflies. Hunters. Infected. Screaming. Gunshots.

The pipe scraped across the ground, splattering blood.

They ran. They made it out alive. They were free… They decided to go back to Utah. They managed to find shelter. She awoke half-way through the night by the sounds of moaning. The hairs on the back of her neck rose in response. She opened her eyes to see him standing over her, twitching. His eyes were red-rimmed, and she could see veins of infection beneath his skin. A bite on his shoulder. She reached for her gun, as he ran towards her, crawling backwards until she was pressed up against the wall. She screamed at him, begged him to stop. He grabbed her – she fired.

The clicker no longer had a head to its body, just pieces.

Rey didn’t realise she was shaking and sobbing until large arms held her back. She screamed, swinging the pipe back but an arm held it back.

“It’s me, it’s me,” he repeated quietly. “You’re safe. It’s over.”

She still struggled against him but less than before. He took the pipe from her arms as she let out another sob. Her fingers gripped onto this stranger like he was her last breath. An agonising sound erupting from her as her insides ached with hurt. Her head was splitting open as she continued violently shake but as he held her tight, she started to calm. His hands feeling warm, secure – like he understood.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t know that the tears weren’t for Finn. They were for her.

Because that clicker had gotten too close before he had blown it to pieces. And, she was infected.

Just like _him_.


	4. Chapter 4

“everyone i have cared for has either died or left me. everyone— fucking except for you! so don't tell me that i would be safer with someone else because the truth is i'd just be more scared.” – _Ellie_

\-------------

Ben didn’t know her name. He wasn’t even sure why she was there, or here for that matter. She could’ve run, left him behind in that clearing. He would still be holding on to Poe and those clickers would have been too busy tearing him apart to go after her. But… She stayed. She pushed that shotgun into his hands and told him to run. She told him to _live_. Despite not know his name, and him not knowing hers.

She was hope.

He was holding onto her as she let out a scream of sheer agony, her nails digging into his skin through all his layers. The sound of it… It broke something inside of him. Ripped apart any temporary lid he had contained his emotions with. Yet, he was still holding her with a mask void of emotion and his head splitting open with images of Poe – glassy eyes and curls spilling over blood spattered skin. She was flailing, trying to escape his grasp and reaching for the pipe but he held her tight, even when his wound had deepened from her movements.

He had seen this before. Held someone like this before.

His mother.

His nose flared as the emotions threatened to spill, his lip trembling.

His father was a smuggler. The only reason they managed as well as they did – as well as anyone could in the zone. But he had slipped up. Taken up a job that risked more than any amount of shitty ration cards could cover. He got caught by border patrol outside curfew. Ben and his mother watched as they put him on his knees and scanned him. He watched as they put a bullet through his brain. Ben was eleven. He held his mother as tight as he could. The next thing he saw was her reaching for the gun and her warm blood on his skin.

He clenched his jaw. There was no time to unbury the past. Especially when there were so much left to bury.

Her breaths were uneven, but she was no longer crying. Her voice barely a whimper as her hands held onto his. He waited a few moments before letting go, but she stopped him.

He looked down at her, seeing her green eyes filled with terror and a pain he recognized. So, he let her hold onto his hand. In fact, there was a comfort in it. Even though they were strangers. Even though he didn’t know her name.

They sat there for a while, saying nothing. He was light-headed, his palms clammy and his forehead dripped with sweat. A mist sitting over his thoughts. He moved back, practically crawling, until his back was against the cabin. She joined him, never breaking their connection. She let out a long sigh beside him.

He turned, looking over her as she stared at sliver of sunlight in the cabin. The arm of her coat was stained with blood, he could see the wound where a bullet had clipped her.

“Your arm,” he said softly.

She looked up at him. He reached towards her arm, but she pulled away from him and he hesitated.

“I’m – I’m fine,” she answered hoarsely.

She blinked several times and shivered. He dropped his wavering hand and instead placed it over his own large wound. One that hadn’t stopped bleeding, despite her efforts of patching him up. Beyond the haze of his mind, he remembered the sting of alcohol mixing with his blood.

“Thank you.”

She shook her head with half-closed eyes. “Yeah. Don’t mention it…”

“Ben,” he offered.

She turned to him, as though taking him in. “Ben. I’m Rey.”

Rey.

He gestured towards her backpack. “You, uh, you have bandages in there?”

She shook her head, an unexplainable expression coming over her features. “Don’t need them.”

He furrowed his brows, his voice low. “You’ll bleed out.”

She said nothing and he dropped it.

So they sat there, quietly. Perhaps for an hour, maybe a few minutes. He wasn’t sure anymore. Only that the wind howled through the shattered windows, taking away the foul stench of blood. And the cabin was slowly, but surely, being lit up by the rising sun. Though it did nothing to ease the bite of the cold.

He was beginning to feel himself go in and out of consciousness. His eyes opening once in a while to see the sunlight had been creeping towards their outstretched legs.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. Her breath visible in the air. “About your friend.” It hit him all over again. Like it was fresh, like it was a new wound. “I know what it’s like to lose someone. But you have to keep going.”

He pressed on his wound, eliciting enough pain to keep himself awake. The back of his head leaned against the wall as his voice became thick. “What if it’s not worth it?”

“It is,” Rey whispered. She squeezed his hand and he turned to see a tear drop from her eye as she smiled. “Even if it’s one fucking second of peace. It’s worth it.” Her gaze was unflinching. “So you make _every_ second count.”

He said nothing and watched as her gaze turned back to the light.

“There’s a lodge, south of the clearing. There’s an entrance at the back. You go there, you’ll find food and supplies.”

He furrowed his brows at her, blinking back his tears as he took in her words. “What about you?”

She ignored him and continued. Her eyes filling with tears as she choked up on her words. “You take care of my horse, okay?” She let go of his hand. “You give him enough food and he’ll trust you – ”

He swallowed, staring at her speechlessly. Her expression, torn between a wry smile and unadulterated fear, made the realisation hit harder.

She wasn’t making it out alive. And it wasn’t because of her arm. It was because…

“You’re infected.”

Her lip trembled as she spoke through a watery smile. “We have to go out some way, huh?” She shrugged, trying to make light of the situation.

“Show it to me.”

“It’s nothing. Barely a scratch.”

“Show it to me – ” His voice caught in his throat, trying to hold back memories. “Please.”

She moved her hand to her coat collar, pulling it down in one fluid motion.

Ben could barely hold back his utter horror. It was inflamed with red, lumps beneath her freckled skin that was beginning to reach across her collarbone and up her neck. Veins protruded out; he could see purple discoloration around the crimson markings of a bite.

His mind instantly fell to that moment. Her flailing in the snow, screaming as she held back that clicker. He hadn’t been fast enough… Had he?

“H – How?” He asked, eyes frantically searching hers.

“It happened before we met.”

Maybe it was how quickly she had responded, or maybe it was because he already knew the truth. But he knew she was lying.

This was his fault. Just like Poe. Just like his mother.

He shook his head in denial and the emotion displayed on his face was something of turmoil. “You’re lying. Aren’t you?” Her face fell slightly, and his jaw trembled at her reaction. “It’s my fault – ”

“Don’t,” she said sharply. But it didn’t stop the guilt from scratching at his throat. “Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself for this.” She again. “I got caught. It’s on me. And I will deal with this so please, go!”

She tried to push him away, but it only made him fall to his side. A violent coughing fit ensued, his shoulder curling inwards as he bent over. Bursts of pain shot through him, and holding his side only worsened it.

“Ben?”

His throat felt like sandpaper was being scraped against it and it was only when he saw blood stain the ground that it confirmed what he already knew about his wound. Ethan had shot him trying to escape and… It was fatal.

This was the end of the line.

Rey helped him back up. Her eyes widened as she saw the blood drip from his mouth. He wiped it away with jacket, clearing his throat several times. He saw her watch the tear slip down his cheek.

“I’m not… I’m not making it out of here either.” He laughed at her solemn expression through his tears. It sounded eerily light in the darkness. “What was it you said? “We all have to go out some way”.”

It was a long time before she said anything.

“I – I don’t intend to live my life as one of those things. But we’re out of ammo, so if you stay here…”

It took him a while to gather her words into a coherent sentence. When he did, he felt something weigh heavy in his pocket. Ben shifted, stuffing his hand into the pocket of his jeans. He closed his hand around the familiar switchblade and pulled it out. Just feeling it, knowing what it meant – it made his chest tighten uncomfortably. He extended it towards her before he could think otherwise. He ignored how the tips of his fingers started to turn blue.

She looked down questioningly, seeing the switchblade in his hand.

“It’s not a bullet. But…” He took a heavy breath. “It’s all I have left of him.”

She took it from him tentatively and pulled the sharp blade out. She stared at it, fear flashing over her eyes before it hardened into determination. Or was it acceptance of the inevitable?

He closed his eyes, feeling his heart thunder in his head at an impossible rate. His fingers numb from the cold (or was it the blood loss?), and he shivered despite sweating.

She mumbled something.

“A chance to what?” He slurred over his words, furrowing his brow.

“A chance to live, not just survive,” she repeated.

It sounded pretty. Like something you would promise to a child. Something you could only hope for. It reminded him of his mother.

He opened his eyes, vision blurring.

“Promise me you’ll wait… Until I’m gone.” He could barely breathe then pull together a sentence. But he managed to. A hot tear trickled down his cheek. “I… I just don’t want to be alone.”

He couldn’t watch her go. Even though she was nothing, a nobody – she was somebody to him now. And she meant something to him in this moment. And, God he just couldn’t. Not when he had watched so many others leave him too.

He felt her hand on his, fingers interlacing with his.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He stared at her, watching as the light fell on her beautifully freckled, blood-stained skin. Her dark hair, almost ginger from the rays of sunlight.

Rey. What a fitting name, he thought.

His eyes fluttered shut and he felt his body slide limply to the floor. He could feel his presence in the cabin fading away, his heartbeat struggling to keep him going. His breaths hauntingly loud in his ears as the wind stopped howling. He could still feel some warmth in his hand, her fingers still laced with his.

“A chance to live,” a voice whispered.

The last thing he heard in the blinding darkness, was the slump of body falling beside his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a really emotional piece for me to write. I think it made me really think about some aspects of my own life which seem so trivial to what the characters in tlou have to face day to day, not that it undermines how I feel, only that it's okay to take a step back and just reflect on things. 
> 
> I want to tell all of you that you are cherished, you are loved and you fucking matter. Nobody on this goddamn earth can tell you otherwise. You may have suffered, maybe still are suffering but I need you to know that there is hope. Even when it feels like the darkest fucking day of your life, there is hope. And I truly believe that there is good ending to our bad chapters. I hope you find yours.
> 
> Sincerely, 
> 
> AP


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